I went home after a couple of hours. I just needed some air and to get away and think things through. I just needed some space.

I’ve thought things through and I have nothing to be ashamed of. Frank is happy, I’m happy. Do we really need anything else right now? Hell, Gerard is happy.

I don’t want to ruin everything again, so I just have to accept myself. Everyone else does. Right now I just have to understand that I don’t know where I’m headed or where I am in life, but I don’t need to know. I’m young and I have so much yet to experience.

When people say: just be yourself and don’t care what people think, it’s not that easy. You can’t just be yourself. Life isn’t that easy. Nothing is that easy. You have to build yourself, you have to become yourself.

I’m starting to understand that I don’t have to be perfect from square one. These people I’ve surrounded myself with love me for who I am. They don’t like seeing me suffer the same way I don’t like seeing them suffer.

I’ve been so trapped in my own head that I’ve made different rules for myself than for everyone else. I’m done with that. I love Frank no matter what, and I’m pretty sure he loves me no matter what. He doesn’t need to be perfect. All he needs to be is himself. The good outweighs the bad.

If he didn’t mean what he said about loving me he would’ve left a long time ago, and he’s still here, so that must count for something.

It’s thanksgiving and instead of thinking about all the things I could’ve done better or things that should have gone differently, for the first time in a long time I can actually find things I’m thankful for.

First thing being that I didn’t kill myself. I stayed alive. I stayed alive and as much as I despised it when people used to say that things would get better, they did, those people were right even though they never experienced exactly what I did, and never will.

I’m also thankful for Frank. A few months ago I would have said that I was thankful that he saved my life and that the only reason I’m still alive is him, but now I’ll say that I’m thankful that I was brave enough to love and that he loved me back.

I’m thankful that he’s never done anything with the intention of hurting me. I’m thankful that Gerard is alive and that we made it in time. I’m thankful that he’s been so strong and made it through everything with flying colors even though we never doubted him in the first place.

Gerard and I decided that we were strong enough to go visit Elena, our grandmother, at the cemetery. We’ve bought some flowers to place there, and I just wish she was here to see how well we’re doing, and I wish I could have properly thanked her for everything she ever did for us. It couldn’t have been easy, cutting off your child to take care of your grandkids.

I’m thankful that, although the first years of my life were messed up, things change. I’m thankful for having had the chance to know Nan as well as I did and that I got the chance to live with her as long as it lasted.

I like to think that in some way or form she can still see us. Death is too much for a simple human mind to understand, and I don’t understand how someone can just disappear completely. If I believed in God I think she’d be up there right next to him, looking down at us and smiling.

If I knew her correctly I think she’d tell us “I told you things would work out.” And then hug us. I think she’d probably be crying because of how happy she was. She was emotional.

As we get out of the car I feel kind of sick. I haven’t been here since the funeral. I’m scared. So fucking scared. I don’t want it all to happen again.

Gerard is walking three steps in front of me carrying the white flowers, and as we enter the graveyard I look up from my shoes and over at him and all I see are his black clothes.

Everything is the same. The church’s dull grey bricks are the same. The cloudy sky is the same, the wind. The gloomy looking trees and dead grass is the same. My insides feel the same. I never got closure. I never got to say goodbye.

My legs are shaking, and the lump in my throat is growing. Tears roll down my cheeks as I stop. I can’t move forward. I’m stuck. The only thing missing is her. Her coffin and her body, it’s not here. But in some way I feel like she is.

I see it all. I see Gerard and me on the one side of the coffin and mom and dad on the other along with some other people we didn’t know too well. I see their tears. I didn’t know they cared about her till then. I see hopelessness and pain.

Gerard notices that I’ve stopped walking and turns around. He too looks crushed. He drops the flowers and rushes over, embracing me. I can’t move. My eyes are stuck on her gravestone. I’m sick. My winter jacket isn’t helping and I’m freezing and I feel like throwing up. My scarf is suffocating me, I try loosening it, but that doesn’t help. Gerard just holds me.

“Mikey, it’s okay. I feel it too. You’re okay.” He whispers. He keeps reminding me that I’m okay, that I’m here, but I still feel my surroundings slip away and I feel like I’m flying. “You’re here. You’re okay.” It’s like he’s speaking on the other side of a wall. I can’t hear him clearly, it sounds muffled. The world is spinning quicker and quicker. I see his lips move but I can’t make out any words. His eyes are worried, but not like they used to be, I guess he knows I’ll be fine now. I’m stronger now.

Eventually I just let it happen because I know that it will and I’m too exhausted to put up a fight. Everything goes black and the past flashes before me. Our last thanksgiving before she passed away. She’d made a real thanksgiving dinner. Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, corn and even pumpkin pie for dessert. It took like two days.

We were going around the table giving thanks even though it was only me, her and Gerard, and she said she was thankful for us. She said she was thankful for getting the opportunity to help raise such wonderful boys, that we were a blessing.

I remember that made me a little angry because I didn’t feel wonderful at all. I didn’t feel like a blessing, a curse maybe, but not a blessing. I didn’t say anything though. Gerard thanked for friends and family. All I could bring myself to say was “Thanks for letting me live through this evening. We’re all going to die someday, but I’m glad you haven’t killed us yet.” Keep in mind that I was depressed and suicidal, but way to bring the mood down.

My hallucinations are put to a stop when I’m suddenly conscious of the fact that Gerard’s voice isn’t a part of it. “Mikey.” He whispers. I open my eyes and to my big surprise I’m still standing upright. Gerard’s arms have been supporting me the whole time I was out. It couldn’t have been too long then.

“Come on. We have to do this. We owe it to her.”

I nod and he lets me put my arm around his shoulders. He supports me as my shaky legs struggle to move forward.

Eventually we’re standing in front of her. A cold wind blows through the naked trees and leaves that have fallen to the ground lift up for a couple of seconds fly a couple of feet before landing safely once more. The light drizzle camouflages the silent tears falling from our eyes. Gerard lays the flowers down in front of the rock that’s left in her memory. It reads “In loving memory of Elena” and below that “May her generous spirit live on forever.”

“You saved us.” he expresses although the cemetery is abandoned. There’s no one there to hear it. But we can always hope. Hope that she’s here somehow.

I lay a hand on his shoulder and say to her what I should have said back then. “I’m thankful for the hope you gave us and I’m forever in your debt. You were one of the strongest, most beautiful people I’ve ever had the privilege of meeting and I wish you were here. I Miss you, I love you, and thank you.”

Then we’re silent. All I can hear is the soft wind and drizzle and Gerard’s snuffling next to me. After a while we turn to each other and I hug him. We’re both sobbing. We’re both vulnerable and in pain, but in some obscure way; there’s beauty in the pain.

We’re both shaking in each other’s arms for a couple of long, quiet minutes. We feel each other’s pain. We are not alone.

Then we turn away and leave even though we feel a pull in her direction. We don’t want to leave, but it’s our duty to stay happy. For her. She wouldn’t have wanted us to stand by her grave and mourn all of thanksgiving. So that’s why we have to go home. We have to go home to Frank; to our family. Today we can pretend to be some weird type of family. We can all pretend to be whole together.

The whole car ride home is silent. Gerard focuses on the road with tearstains all the way down his cheeks.

I focus on the rain landing on the windshield, trying not to think at all because I’ll just start crying.

Eventually we are home and Gee turns the engine off. We sit in the car gathering the energy we need to walk up those steps and be happy again.

I turn to Gerard. “Thank you. I needed that. Even though it hurt like hell.” The tears are back now.

“Thank you for saying what you said there. I know it’s been difficult and thank you for staying alive. Thank you for helping me as well. I needed you, and you were right there, right away. I believe that part of Elena lived on through everyone she ever had an impact on…and…” Now he’s sobbing. I don’t really think that he believes what he’s saying about living on, but I think he’s trying to and I think he really wants to. “…and I can see that she’s making sure we’re okay. In some way I think she’s watching over us.”

He leans over the gearbox and hugs me. “I love you. You’re okay.”

We dry our tears away and start walking toward the stairs to the apartment thinking that Frank’s been at work all day. From the second we step out of the parking garage and into the stairway you can smell all the thanksgiving dinners being cooked. Gee kind of looks at me and widens his eyes signaling how good it smells.

As we reach the top floor we’re surprised that it smells even stronger outside of our door. Gerard unlocks the door and we’re met by an ecstatic Frank in an apron. “Happy thanksgiving!” he yells.

I swear, butterflies and rainbows would explode out of him if they could, he is that happy. He hugs both of us and we’re speechless.

“I’m making a real thanksgiving dinner.” He comes back to me and gives me a long smooch like a wife would give a husband in one of those stereotypical old movies.

“EEEEWW!” Gerard jokes. “Save it for the bedroom you fucked up kids.”

“I just wanted to thank you guys for helping me realize what a shitty family I had and get the courage to stand up to my dad. I love you guys. You’re more of a family I’ve ever had.”

We help him set the table as we blast Smashing Pumpkins because it’s the only music we can think of that has anything to do with fall even though it’s only the band name. We dance around like we’re all okay, because right now, we are. We heal each other. Tonight we belong to each other. We’re a happy family.

As we eat the feast that has been prepared for us we talk about all the great things in store for us. The turkey is actually tofu turkey, but I can’t taste the difference. We talk about our dreams of getting out of here and our dreams of being happy. I don’t think any of us have ever laughed as much as we have this evening.

After we've eaten up all the food and pumpkin pie we move over to the couch, where Frank and Gee play some of their material for me. They've gotten great! They really have.

Eventually we’re all just laying around on the couches laughing at everything and nothing. Gerard is taking up the one couch where as I have my head supported on Franks hip, him being sideways. He’s massaging my scalp.

We’re just laughing because of each other and how unlikely any of this would have seemed just a half year ago. How all of us at one point have been really messed up and how it’s so weird that things have a tendency to work out.

“How the hell did any of this even happen!?” Frank exclaims at 12.01 am after a long silence. We all burst into laughter. We are so fucking messed up, but together we can forget. We can survive. We are okay.